The jingling of keys and soft click of the lock disengaging were the only sounds to permeate the silent house Gil Grissom tried to quietly enter. Once he had the door open he stood for several seconds in the entry way listening for any sign that the two occupants of the house had started their day. When no sounds were forthcoming, he let a small sigh of relief escape his mouth and continued on with his mission. While the early morning hour would have guaranteed him the uninterrupted time he needed with any other occupants, he had learned to expect the unexpected with these two. He walked purposefully through the house that was becoming home to him more and more each day. Careful to keep his movements to a minimum to avoid any unnecessary noise, he deposited the first of his load onto the kitchen table. He turned back and retraced his steps out of the house; he needed to get all the bags into the house and put away before the house woke. It took three trips to the Tahoe, but he finally had all his packages in the house and stacked on various kitchen surfaces. He knew where everything went and had quickly managed to get the groceries put away. Sighing in satisfaction he checked the time on the kitchen clock and calculated he had about forty-five minutes until one or both of the upstairs occupants woke. He moved through the house with a swiftness that only comes from true comfort.

Gil settled himself at the small desk in the corner of the living room and quickly prepared himself for the task ahead. He pulled the small stack of mail from the drawer and placed it in front of him before retrieving his checkbook and pen from the inside pocket of his leather jacket. He started with the top piece of mail and in no time had two piles in front of him; one to be mailed and one to be filed away. He once again checked the time and was pleased to see that he still had about 20 minutes before the house would wake. He grabbed the stack of bills to be mailed and headed for the door. He took great care in placing the envelopes in the mailbox and raising the flag. As he turned toward his car to retrieve one last package he noticed the next door neighbor, Bob or Rob, some innocuous name like that, leaving his house, for what Gil presumed was work. The bleary eyed Bob/Rob noticed Gil and offered a halfhearted wave and shrug as an acknowledgement before taking a sip from his travel mug and pulling his car out onto the street. Gil returned the gesture, although with a little more enthusiasm. After all, his work day was over and he had tonight off to spend with his two favorite girls. Gil smiled slightly as ideas for the evening flowed through his mind. He finally abandoned that train of thought when he acknowledged that he would do whatever they wanted to do. It didn't matter to him what they did together, it never did. As long as they were together he was content. Hefting a fairly large shopping bag from his car he made his way back into the house. He had just managed to close the door behind him when he looked up and stopped dead in his tracks, the bag slipping from his grasp and landing with a muffled thud on the hardwood floor.

Catherine Willows stood five feet away from him, donning one of the most intimidating poses he had ever encountered. Her arms were folded angrily across her chest, her hands were balled up into tight fists, she shifted her weight impatiently from one foot to the other and she wore a very unhappy expression on her face.

Gil took a deep breath and sighed before launching into, what he hoped was not going to be another argument. "Cath, I can explain. I ...."

"You did it again. Didn't you." It was not a question and Catherine's eyes dared him to deny it.

Gil stood in the doorway to Catherine's home looking at the floor and felt the annoyance build within him. After several long seconds of silence he looked up and gave voice to that annoyance.

"Yes, Catherine, I did." His voice held no trace of apology and the words, once started, built in momentum as he continued. "And if you would just stop being so stubborn about it, I wouldn't have to sneak over here before you woke up and do it. I could have spent that time with you, in bed, ending a long night the right way. But instead I'm sneaking around, trying to think up plausible excuses for not only doing something that I WANT to do but also excuses to avoid your anger for something that I just don't understand WHY you get angry about in the first place." When he finished his very uncharacteristic rant, his anger and annoyance were spent, but he maintained his defensive position. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared back at Catherine, daring her to argue back.

Taking up the challenge, Catherine stepped closer to Gil and tried to temper her own annoyance at having to have this conversation again. "Gil, I've told you a thousand times that I don't need your financial help. It's enough for me to know that you're there for me and Lindsey where it really counts. I know you love us and would do anything for us, but I don't want you buying groceries or sneaking around paying my bills." Catherine paused and eyed the bag that had fallen at Gil's feet. Slowly, she returned her gaze to Gil's and continued, "And if I'm not mistaken, that bag contains the shoes and clothes I told Lindsey were too expensive last weekend when we went shopping." Catherine saw the look of shock cross Gil's face. She had obviously been right.

Gil quickly composed himself and tried to formulate the right words for his defense. He raised his eyes to hers and with no clear plan in mind he began to talk softly and slowly hoping the words he needed would come to him in time. "Cath, you're right, I DO love you and Lindsey and there isn't anything in this world I wouldn't do for either of you. I just don't understand why you won't let me help out financially." He quickly raised his hand to cut off the argument that he saw forming on her lips. "Let me finish, please." When she closed her mouth and shifted her weight in a clear sign she wouldn't interrupt but wasn't happy about it, he gently placed his hands on her shoulders and moved them down her arms. When he reached her elbows he untangled her arms from in front of her and continued on his downward journey. Finally he reached her hands and took a moment to caress one of his favorite physical features of her amazing body. He folded her two smaller hands snuggly into his two larger ones and sought out her eyes. If his words were inadequate to convince her perhaps the feelings behind them would be enough. When he finally spoke, his voice was devoid of all emotions except the love he had for her. "I want to be a part of your life and Lindsey's. I want to be included in more than just the fun parts, the special events. I want to be a part of the everyday things. The grocery shopping, the bill paying, the homework, the doctor's visits, everything."

When he paused to take a breath, Catherine took her opportunity and started to build her own case. "I know you do, and I love you for that. And Lindsey loves you for that. But Gil, it's not your responsibility to take care of us financially. I can do that. I have been doing that. I don't keep you around for your checkbook, you know." She ended her little speech with a half smile hoping to dampen the blow of her words with humor.

Gil smiled a lopsided smile and leaned in to place a light kiss to her lips. "I know you've been taking care of Lindsey and yourself, financially and otherwise for a long time. And you've done a wonderful job. But would you feel the same way if we were married? Would it still be yours and mine?"

It was now Catherine's turned to be shocked. Recovering, she shook her head and chuckled, "That's an irrelevant point. We're not, so it has nothing to do with this argument."

Using the tone of voice he usually reserved for Greg when he was finding the young lab tech particularly exasperating he asked the question once again. "Would you feel the same way if we were married? It's a very simple question, Catherine. And I would like an answer."

Catherine was shocked once again. Not at the fact that he would ask the question again, but at the tone he used to ask it. Never had he used that voice when addressing her. She stumbled over her initial words, but again answered with what she thought was the best answer. "But we're NOT married."

"Catherine ........" Gil's voice held the warning as clearly as his eyes did.

"Oh, fine. No, I wouldn't feel the same if we were married. But that's a completely different situation. A completely different commitment than what we have. Marriage is ..." Gil raised his hand to her lips to stop what he felt was going to be a very long ramble on the finer points of matrimony. Catherine stilled immediately and looked at him, the question burning in her eyes.

"Marry me."

The simple words spoken were not a question, but not quite a demand either. Stunned at the turn in the conversation, Catherine said nothing for what seemed like a lifetime to Gil. Not able to stand the silence any longer, Gil tried to prompt Catherine out of her silence by speaking softly. "Catherine, did you hear me? I said marry me. Cath?"

Catherine's brain took several long seconds to comprehend what Gil had just said before launching into another argument. "Grissom, if you think for one second that I'm going to marry you just so you can pay my electric bill and spoil my daughter rotten, you are sadly mistaken."

Gil's face fell at her words, but he recovered quickly and immediately sought to defend his words. "Catherine, I didn't ask you to marry me to be able to pay your bills." The hurt and disbelief was evident in his tone. "I meant what I said before; I want it all with you and Lindsey. I want to ...."

This time it was Catherine who placed a finger to Gil's lips. "You didn't let me finish. I won't marry you just so you can do those things ......... but I will marry you because I love you and can't imagine a future for me and Linds without you." Catherine moved closer to Gil, removed her finger from his lips and replaced it with her mouth. The kiss was gentle, but more than enough to soothe Gil's rapidly beating heart. Catherine ended the kiss and looked at the face of the most loving man she had ever met. The knowledge that she alone had been responsible for the smile she found there filled her with more happiness than she thought any person had the right to feel.

They silently stood there in the entry way to Catherine's home, looking at each other and allowing the conversation that had just transpired time to completely be digested. Gil was the first to break the silence, "So, just to be clear. I asked you to marry me?"

"Yup."

"And you said yes?"

"Yes."

"OK, just checking." Gil wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly to him. They broke apart moments later and in silent accord turned to head into the kitchen to start their day together. Half way through the house Catherine stopped short and spun around to face Gil as if she suddenly remembered something. She looked at him sternly and in the best motherly tone she could muster she spoke. "I'll let the grocery thing and the bill paying thing go for now, but that stuff," she gestured to the bag by the door, "goes back."

Gil turned and looked at the bag by the door and turned back to Catherine with a small smile and offered a simple, "Nope.", in response to her demand. Exasperated, Catherine huffed and started to explain to him in the manner she would to a small child. "Gil, if you're going to be a responsible member of this family, then you have to learn that Lindsey's every whim can not be fulfilled. It's not financially practical and for your own sanity not the right course of action. She changes her mind almost hourly about what she wants and can make your head spin with the different directions she goes in. That stuff goes back."

Gil shook his head and outright laughed when she had finished. Sensing her growing anger he quickly offered his rationale for not returning the things. "That may be, Cath, but as you so helpfully pointed out a few short minutes ago, we're not married, and therefore I am still `fun Uncle Grissom' and not the `dreaded step-father' ...... yet."

Catherine knew she had lost this battle and turned to head back towards the kitchen. She had only taken a step or two when Gil heard her voice and laughed. "Semantics, Grissom. Semantics."

THE END